A Tale of Ice and Blood
by karinfan123
Summary: AU: In this, the 300th year after Aegon's Conquest, the Southron lords continue their battles for the Iron Throne and armies clash for the fate of the North outside of Winterfell. See what will come to Westeros now, as the cold winds of winter fall upon the world.
1. Snow Rises

_A Tale of Ice and Blood_

 _Chapter I - Snow Rises_

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 _When last we left off in the series, Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, was attempting to calm Wun Wun down when he was stabbed by his fellow brothers of the Nights Natch, who held him guilty of oathbreaking due to his plans to march against the Bastard of Bolton. With this act, not only did the brothers commit mutiny, but they inadvertently relieved Jon of his vows to their sacred order, but they also found enemies in the wildlings that Jon had rallied for the task of a ranging. With the only man on the Wall capable of keeping the peace seemingly struck down, chaos descended on Castle Black as Free Folk and Black Brothers clashed once more; just as they had done from time immemorial. What happens in its aftermath will help decide the fate of not only Night's Watch, but the North and, perhaps, even the whole of Westeros as well..._

Jon awakens to a cold, wet nose prodding his exposed hand and slowly opens his eyes to see the red eyes of Ghost staring at him as he nudges his hand. After a short fit of coughing, he manages to say, his throat terribly hoarse for some unknown reason, "Hey boy, what's going on?" After he speaks a startled grunt at his left draws his attention. He then notices the young Dryn had fallen out of his seat. The boy looks up, startled to have awoken, but then notices that Jon is alive and awake. Dryn rushes from the room yelling for his father. Confused and disoriented, Jon looks around his room in the armory trying to figure out how and why he is here. he then notices that his chest is wrapped in bloodstained linens. Reaching for his chest he gasps in pain upon contact. He tries to clear his thoughts of the pain so he can remember what happened, when Val comes in through the door. Ghost runs up and licks her cheek as she startles at Jon's alertness. She then gently pushes Ghost aside before picikng up the fallen chair and sitting in it beside the bed.

After a short moment silence, Val raises a brow and remarks, "Well, you look well for a man we pulled out of a pool of his own blood. You had more holes in you then a moth-eaten cloak."

With those words, Jon remembers Wun Wun going berserk, Ser Patrek's dead corpse in the giant's hands, ordering the men present to stand down, and then...the betrayal. Feeling his chest burn in pain with the remembrance, Jon grits his teeth and hisses, "Traitors!"

Val calmly grabs a nearby wet cloth to dab the sweat from his brow. "You need not concern yourself with those crows, Lord Snow. Tormund either has them decorating spikes or awaiting your pleasure in the cells."

Jon grunts in understanding before asking for a drink, his throat still raw and aching. As Val gets up to retrieve some water, the door opens with a bang, slamming against the wall. Looking up he sees the triumphant face of Tormund Giantsbane as he barrels into the room.

"Crow!" He bellowed, "Should've known a few daggers couldn't kill you!" This said he reaches out to slap Jon on the shoulder, only for Val to smack him upside the head.

"The Lord Crow isn't up to being manhandled now, you great lummox," Val chides him and proceeds to help raise Jon's head so he can drink. With all the people in the small room, Jon feels ghost agitation as he paws at the ground.

Jon clears his throat and hoarsely says, "Tormund, kindly step aside to let Ghost out, but don't let him wander too far." Tormund complies with the request while Val sets the cup aside. Ghost bolts out the opened door and into the armory proper, while Val moves to sit on the edge of the bed and Tormund plops into the tiny chair.

Once everyone is settled, Jon looks over and demands, "What happened after my brothers attacked me?"

Tormund snorts saying, "After those backstabbers tried cutting you down, that craven Marsh tried to force us out. I said I wasn't leaving without your word, when they told me that you were feeding the crows," Jon smiles sardonically at the imagery, " I didn't much like that answer, so i said they could go suck me member and led me boys in the attack."

Val adjusts the bandages and quips, "It was your sword they sucked into their guts, not your member."

Tormund roared with laughter. "That they did, that they did!" Jon joined in with a few small chuckles, before it started to hurt too much. Waving off Val's concern, he motioned for Tormund to continue. Looking at Jon wearily, Tormund picks up the story. "By the time we were done clipping all of them crows' wings, you had nearly bled out like a stuck pig, and Dryn had dragged you off to Val's tower, where she and Torreg helped keep ya breathing."

Val scowled and muttered, " I'd of had better luck drowning a fish then putting you back together." Louder she said, "If not for the red woman," Jon could practically feel the distaste in her voice, "you'd of likely bled out on my bed right then and there."

At Jon's raised brow, Tormund explains, "The mad wench told me she could save you, but we had to burn one of them cravens to do it." At Jon's startled look, Tormund justified himself, saying, "Not like we had a lot of options crow! It was either give her a shot and hope for the best, or be stuck here in the castle and wait for them other crows to come and pick up the fight."

Val nods and adds," wouldn't of done them much good, but we couldn't risk turning on each other with your kneeler king to our south and the Others to the front of us. Without you, we might as well of opened the gates and let the Others finsh the butcher's work."

Jon sighs tiredly, rubbing his brow in exasperation, but nods resignedly. "Tormund, Val said some of the traitors survived. Where are they now?"

Tormund grunts, "Probably killed nearly half of the crows in yer castle," Jon glares at the man, but Tormund acts as if he doesn't notice, " Maybe a score of them are high tailing it to your shadow tower. Another score fled with that marsh bastard to the east. As for the rest, I got the ones that tried gutting you in them ice cells, and the others are being held in sheild hall and a few of them towers."

Jon growls in irritation and clenches his fists. _Traitor is probably trying to take East-watch-by-the-Sea while Pyke is absent._

there is quiet for a few minutes as jon processes this latest bit of worrying news and his two companions let him absorb the situation in peace. After a short while though, Tormund grows restless and asks, "What are we to do now Lord Crow? This shit won't sort itself out." Beside him, Val nods in agreement.

Sighing and unclenching his hands, Jon thinks for a moment and asks, "How long have I been out? How much time have those that fled had to get to where they are going?"

Tormund scratches at his bearded chin and considers for a moment. "Fight only took about an hour or so. Spent the rest of the day disposing of the dead and clearing the rubble. That was 4 days ago now. Seeing as most of the horses are still in the stables, I'd say those going west would be about half way to your shadow tower. Those headed east are either already at one of the other castles or halfway to the sea." Tormund looks sideways at Val and adds, "Thought about sending some men to hunt them down, but Val said that we would be better off holding here until you woke up, assuming the red woman could drag you out of death's grip."

Clearly irritated, Val rebuked him, "We had a castle full of crows and we might have run afoul of more if we sent any men out to hunt down those craven bastards. Better to wait until we knew what we were dealing with." Tormund just grunted noncommittally. "In any case, when Dryn told us you had woken up, we sent for that steward of yours."

Jon furrows his brow and asks, "Satin?"

Val waves her hand dismissively and says, "Not that one. The old, ugly one that cares for the birds. He's been helping with all the wounded. With you back among the living, I thought it time to have him look at those bandages again."

Jon nods in agreement, before hearing a startled yelp from outside the door. Turning back to his companions, he gives a small smirk and remarks, " I believe Ghost just welcomed him to the armory. Go see that he didn't piss his britches." Tormund and Val both laugh as the woman gets up and opens the door. Shooing Ghost away from the old man, she waves him in and tells Dryn to stand watch.

Glancing wearily over his shoulder, the elderly Clydas turns to address Jon and gives him a bow. "Lord Commander, I'm pleased that you are still with us. When I first looked in on you, I was sure you were not long for this world."

Jon dryly replies, "The old gods saw fit to keep here. They must enjoy disappointing people's expectations." Before Clydas could stammer a reply to that, Jon continued, "Report. What is the state of the remaining brothers?"

Clearing his throat and steadying himself, the steward replied, "Fifty men are fit for service, mostly steward, while about fourty more are still too wounded to stand their posts. I'd say about another forty fled the castle, either to Shadow Tower or with the Lord Steward to the east. The remainder, eight men all told, are locked in the ice cells with those Karhold men. Anyone else was killed in the chaos after you were attacked." Glancing over to Tormund, he added, "I've also been caring for the Wildlings. Save for the three who died, the rest are already back on their feet."

Jon nods. "Good work. Now, what about Wun Wun?"

Val spoke up then and said, "He's fine. A bit cranky from the nicks he took during the fighting, but still whole and guarding my tower." She smiles mischeviously, grey eyes twinkling, "We gave him a bit of your wine to calm him down. He seemed much happier after that."

Jon groaned, feeling a headache start to form. _A drunken giant? That's the last thing I need! With my luck, next they'll tell me Ser Alister Thorne is outside demanding an audience!_ Shaking his mind free of the unpleasant thought, Jon turned back to the situation at hand and asked, "Any word from the other castles?"

"From the furthest castles, we've had a few reports on their general situations," Clydas reported, "but only Queensgate and Oakenshield are aware of the current situation here at Castle Black." Frowning, he added, "We've also had no word from any of the rangings, as of yet, and no further word from Commander Pyke at Hardhome."

Grimly reminded of the wider crises they faced, also brought to mind the southern threat he'd been planning to deal with before being treated like a stuck pig. "Any word from our scouts about the Boltons? Should we be expecting them in the coming days?"

Bringing Jon's attention back to himself, Tormund put in, "No sign of them yet. The last army to pass through your lands were the Thenns on their way south. Haven't seen hide nor hair of anyone else, but we're still waiting for a scouts to come in. Could be they saw something the others missed."

Taking all of this in, Jon then turns to the next pressing matter. "Fine. We'll put that aside for the moment. Now, Clydas, how long until I can walk and ride. For that matter, how long until I'll be able to fight again? I need to get back to work."

Clydas, looking up from his kit, scowls at Jon and snaps. "You're not going anywhere Lord Snow! With the damage you've taken, you're lucky to still be breathing!" Turning back to his medical supplies for a moment, he grumbles too quietly for them to hear and then adds, "If you really must know, you're likely to take the next couple of months to recover fully. The most optimistic time frame I could give you is three weeks, but I wouldn't get your hopes up if I were you. Even if you do manage to get back on your feet that quickly, it will still be weeks more before your fully combat ready." Again he mutters to himself, but they still managed to hear him utter, "Curse the little bastard for sending Maester Aemon away and leaving me with this mess."

Ignoring that remark and trying to ignore his still mounting headache, Jon growls in frustration and slams a fist against his bed. As Val begins to fuss over him again, he snaps at her that he's fine, before barking, "Clydas!" causing the steward to snap his attention back to Jon. "When you're done with me, gather parchment and ink. I want riders and ravens sent out to every castle on the Wall, the Mountain Clans as well, so they know what's happened. We need to get on top of this before tales begin to spread of another Wildling invasion. Also, tell them I need a full report on their status and any news about Bolton troop movements." Gritting his teeth from the pain, he adds, "And somebody find out where my rangers are! I will not be blind while an army of corpses readies itself to descend upon us!"

The three nodded in affirmation, but anything they might of said was cut off as Jon let loose a shout, pain exploding behind his eyes and throughout his body. All he heard before darkness fell over him were the shouts of his companions and confusion all around him.

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Author's Note: Well, here's another attempt at writing an ASOIAF fanfiction. Having done a great deal in planning for this story, along with having found a writing method works for me, I do believe the update rate of this story will be quite quick. The next chapter will probably even be out by Thursday or Friday, depending on when I finish proofreading it. Also, the chapters will like get longer as time passes and things begin to heat up in the story. In short, the chances of this going the way of "The Wild Wolf's Heir," is highly unlikely.

Now, as always, I hope you enjoyed the story and I encourage all of you to read and review!

PS: I do not own ASOIAF


	2. Dead Man's Walk

_A Tale of Ice and Blood_

 _Chapter II - Dead Man's Walk_

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 _Its been two weeks since Jon was attacked and a week and a half since his first awakening. After awakening again three days after Jon has spent his time doing his best to quickly recover and restore order to Castle Black. With the letters sent out and his orders recieved, Bowen Marsh and his conspirators were arrested at the Nightfort by Othell Yarwyck, squashing their attempt to round up more men for his coup. The other castles have been informed of what has happened. and now that Jon is slowly on the mend and starting to walk around, he must begin returning to his duties for the good of the realm._

"Lord Commander, you shouldn't be attempting to walk yet! You should rest for a few-" Clydas was saying before Jon interrupted him

"No Clydas, I've rested long enough!" Jon snapped, his patience frayed from too many lying in bed. "I have to walk the castle and let myself be seen by the men so they know I'm still alive and that they are not being tricked by the free folk. They must be assured that I am in command, lest another bout of stupidity seize upon them!" Reaching for a crutch, Jon nearly stumbles before Val helps to steady him and he works on maintaining his balance. Jon continues his rebuke towards Clydas, saying, "The last thing I need is waking up to yet another slaughter when the Free Folk are forced to put down a riot by my men."

Shaking his head, the old steward finally throws up his arms in exasperation. "Fine!" he said, "but if you collapse and reopen your wounds because of this foolishness, don't come crying to me!" With that, the man shuffled out of the armory and back out to the castle.

Sighing, Jon allows Val to place his arm over her shoulder and bear some of his weight. Looking at her, Jon is still unsure where they stand. At times he's sure he sees some amount of fondness behind her eyes, but at others she takes delight in mocking him mercilessly. She is much like winter herself, she is beautiful, but she can be cold and harsh. but while the pain and loss of Ygritte is still there, he was starting to contemplate what could've been. Hearing a throat being cleared, Jon shakes his head of those thoughts and notices Val smirking at him, eyes twinkling with mischief. Somewhat unnerved, Jon asks, "What?"

"You seemed quite engrossed in your thoughts," Val said sweetly, "Have I finally managed to warm that icey blood of yours?" At Jon's thunderstuck look and stammering response, Val simply laughed and started prodding him along. "Come along Lord Snow, we've much to do. You can continue admiring me on the move." Muttering under his breath, the redness on his face from more then pain or the cold now, Jon simply moved along with her without comment.

As they leave the armory, Jon and Val direct themselves towards the King's Tower, Ghost trailing silently at his left side, opposite Val on his right. Giving short, steady glances, Jon notices several of his fellow Black Brothers along his path to the castle. Tense, weaponless, and surrounded by their ancient enemies, those men who meet his eyes are guarded, some resentful, some grudgingly grateful of Jon's presence. Knowing as he does of the slaughter and chaos that took place after went down a fortnight ago, Jon cannot say as he blames them for any ill will they might have towards him. Feeling a short, comforting pressure on his shoulder, he gives Val a discreet look of gratitude for the support. She does not seem to notice, but its just as well. _Better not to give the men more reason to accuse me of oathbreaking,_ Jon thinks, _Not that it much matters at this point. Those of them that didn't think me a traitor before, surely think so now._

Continuing on, accepting the nods and salutes of what Free Folk and Black Brothers they pass along the way, Jon eventually makes it to the King's Tower. Coming up to the round tower and its iron studded, oak door, Jon has Val bang on the door to gain entrance. After several long moments with no reply, Jon loses his patience with standing out in the cold and shouts up to the window above their heads. After a moment, the window opens and the guardsman, Merrel, looks down at them.

"Who goes there!" The man shouts out, a scowl on his face.

Irritated, Jon calls out, "The 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch! Now open the blasted door and let me in!"

Clearly put out, but also knowing that refusing Jon entrance is far above his prerogative, Merrel calls back, "Wait while I give word to Lady Melisandre! She can decide whether to let in or not!" Without waiting for a reply, the guard shuts the window and disappears back into the tower, leaving Jon and Val to wait in the cold, open air.

At his side, Val begins muttering under breath, clearly irritated at having to deal with the Southron fools inside. "Must we truly bother with these lackwits, Lord Crow? Surely there are more useful things we could be doing?" Here she lowered her voice, a contemptuous look on her face, " Like throwing ourselves from the Wall."

Despite the cold and the mounting discomfort from his still recovering body, Jon chuckled. Keeping his voice low, he replied, "Unfortunately, the Queen must given some amount of notice and respect. If Stannis hears I left his wife to starve to death in a tower, the next time we meet him will not be half so pleasant as the last. Still," shooting her a dry look, he adds, "I'll admit that I'd happily leave them to rot under other circumstances. The woman has worse manners then Wun Wun and is as pleasant to be around as ol' Rattleshirt ever was." Val laughs, but anything she might've said is cut off as they hear a racket from behind the door; likely the Queen's guards removing whatever they had used to barricade the doors.

After another few minutes of waiting, the doors finally open and Jon sees the Queen's uncle, Ser Axel Florent, standing inside, waiting to greet them. "Lord Commander," the man greets curtly, his distaste for Jon obvious, "Be welcome. Queen Selyse and Lady Melisandre await you in the Queen's quarters."

Nodding, Jon glances down at Ghost, who both Val and Tormund have insisted never leave his side when away from his quarters in the armory. Not much caring for the thought of parting with his loyal companion himself, the attack still fresh in his mind, Jon addresses Ser Axel bluntly and with heavy finality. "Ghost will be acompanying me." Without waiting for the man's reply he enters the tower, still leaning heavily on Val for support and signalling the direwolf to follow.

Scowling darkly at the abruptness of Jon's demand, though Jon notices he does not protest, he follows them at the rear as Jon, Val, and Ghost make their way up to the Queen's chambers at the top of the tower. As they reach their destination, Jon and Val allow Ser Axel to pass them, so that he might announce them to the Queen and her small court. Opening the door and clearing his throat, Ser Axel proclaims, "Your majesty, may I present: Lord Commander Snow and his companion, the Wildling Princess."

Choosing to ignore the mockery of his name and the insinuation in how the Queen's uncle described Val's presence, Jon enters the royal chambers. Seeing the Queen and most of her court tense up at the sight of Ghost trailing behind him brings some amusement, but Jon wisely does not allow it to show. Instead he gives a short inclination of his head and is casually waved into a seat by the Lady Melisandre. As Val helps into his seat, Jon takes quick stock of the court, noting the tension and fear roiling beneath the surface that has little to do with Ghost and has everything to do with the feeling the southerners have that they are under siege. Melisandre, meanwhile seems as calm and composed as ever, Jon notes, though seeming more haggard and weary then Jon has ever seen her. Having heard from Val and Tormund of how Melisandre had saved him and that she had nearly collapsed afterwards, Jon concludes that whatever she had done to heal him had taken far more then a single burning traitor to accomplish. Putting this aside, Jon settled back in the chair with a barely noticable sigh of relief, Val taking a seat beside him shorty after and Ghost laying down at his feet.

After Jon was settled, Melisandre greets him with an enigmatic smile. "Lord Commander,it does me good to see you alive and well. The Lord of Light has allowed me to work his will in saving you."

"All hail the one true god!," came the echo from the Queen and her court, though he noted that some among them were more resigned than grateful for the 'miracle.'

 _The lot of them would've happily recieved news of my death and greeted my successor with enthusiasm,_ Jon thought, _though chances are my 'successor' would've been carried in by Tormund on a spear for their perusal._ Sighing, Jon nods. "I thanks you for aid in saving me, my lady. I am surely in your debt."

Melisandre simply waves her hand in a casual dismissile of the sentiment. "I have simply done my Lord's work, Jon Snow. His plans still yet require your presence in this world."

Choosing to ignore that and wanting to avoid anymore talk of her bloodthirsty god, Jon turns his attention back to the Queen. "Your grace," Jon begins courteously, "My apologies for taking so long to seek this audience. Recent circumstances necessitated that I focus on the interal matters of my command."

The Queen's lips curled slightly in contempt, her eyes glaring with a mild degree of disgust. "Indeed," she said, her voice harsh, "and yet you might've sent someone to inform your queen of what is happening. My husband will be most displeased with the disregard you have show us, to say nothing of the murder of our most loyal Ser Patrek by that beastial creature. I demand that you have that filthy abomination executed at once!"

Jon, having expected this demand since he had awoken a week past, did not even blink. Instead, he stared the Queen down and said with clear finality, "Wun Wun was ensuring Val's safety and Ser Patrek was foolish enough to challenge him. As your husband regards Val as his own hostage and bid me look after her until he returns, I can only assume that Ser Patrek sought to usurp the king's authority over her and take Val for his own." The Queen and her men quietly seethed, but Jon continued saying, "If you take exception with this, you can wait for your husband to return to dispute with him. As of now, I have neither the time nor the patience to concern myself with fools. I am here to inform of what has happened in full and to assure you of your safety. What you do afterwards, I can honestly say I don't give a frozen shite."

Ser Axel, outraged at the disrespect shown to his niece and queen, takes several aggressive steps forward, shouting, "You filthy little bastard! How dare you-!" The knight is cut off as Ghost leaps up from his place at Jon's feet, teeth bared in silent fury and eerie red eyes flaring malevolently. Ser Axel stumbles back, tripping over his feet and landing on the ground, quickly dragging himself backwards by his hands in abject terror. The situation looks to turn bloody as the guards, Merrel and Morgan, reach for their blades, Ghost readying himself to pounce, and Val tensing at his side...

CRACK

Everyone stops, turning their attention in the direction of the sharp noise and Jon notes Lady Melisandre, a short walking staff having been slapped against the ground. Having brought their attention back to her, the priestess looks at them all imperiously, "That is enough. The Lord Commander is our host and we will treat him with respect, as your king expects of you." Having brought the Queen's Men to heel, she turns her attention to the Queen herself. "Your grace, I am sure you can excuse the Lord Commander's abruptness. The rigors of command can cause any man to forget their courtesies, even one raised in the company of nobility." Glaring with barely contained rage, the Queen simply gave a curt nod, refusing to speak. Ignoring the woman's discontent, the Red Woman turned back to Jon, who had remained still and unmoved in the midst of the confrontation. "Now that that is settled, Lord Commander, I am sure we would all be pleased to hear the news that has brought you here."

Stonefaced and inscrutable, Jon gathers his thoughts and begins to inform them of what has happened. He tells them of the full circumstances of Ser Patrek's death, the mutiny that followed by his men, Tormund's resulting rampage, the flight or imprisonment of those who betrayed him, how word of these events had been sent to the other castles on the Wall, and the recent news that Bowen Marsh had been imprisoned by Othell Yarwyck after he had doubled back around Castle Black to try and gather more men for another attempted coup. His tale done, Jon finishes by saying, "You will be pleased to know that the situation, while very wearying for all involved, has stabilized and you are under no threat. Tormund and his men, along with my Brothers, have everything well in hand. Should anything else occur, I will be sure to inform you with due haste." Having finished and not wanting to deal with the Southron fools any further, Jon rose, Val moving quickly from her seat to aid him, nodded curtly to the Queen, and proceeded to exit the tower as quickly as dignity and his still recovering body would allow.

Moving along back to the armory, Jon ignores those he passes, too exhausted from the walk, the climb up & down the tower, and the confrontation with the Queen to greet anyone they pass. Addressing Val tiredly, "Much more of that and I'd have been tempted to let Ghost rip their throats out. The sooner Yarwyck finishes making the Nightfort habitable, the happier I'll be."

Nodding in agreement, Val replies, "It cannot happen soon enough for me either, though I should hope that I will not be going with them, being the king's 'hostage,'" here she looks pointedly at Jon, clearly showing her displeasure at his description of her before the Queen and her men.

Shaking his head, Jon answers, "No. You'll be staying here until Stannis returns and then..." here he hesitates, Val clearly noticing with a challenging brow raised. "Then we'll see what happens," Jon finishes.

Deciding to change the subject, Val asks, "Speaking of the old builder, what will you have him do with the craven traitor?"

Knowing precisely who she means, Jon says, "Usually, I'd have Marsh sent back here and execute him myself. Injured as I am, though? I'll have Yarwyck send him to the Shadow Tower and have Mallister execute him for mutiny. I'd rather not put Yarwyck in the position where he has execute his friend and Mallister won't heistate to put the man down for mutiny. The matter will be settled and I can focus on more important affairs." Rather then respond, Val simply nodded and they continued on in silence, a comfortable silence falling between them as they left each other to their own thoughts...

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 _One week later_

Jon strode out of the armory, crutch in hand with both ghost and Val at his side as he made his way through the yard to watch his brothers, queens men, and free folk all sparing in the yard or shooting arrows at the archery butts. though he is able to walk after a fashion, he is still not in any condition to join them in the yard. after just receiving word from commander mallister at the shadow tower of marsh's death and the execution of the other mutineers. Jon looks at the men in the yard as he contemplates who he is going to have as the new lord steward, along with who will become the new first ranger. While watching young Dryn practice his archery, painfully reminded of the last time he'd stood watching his brother Bran do the same, Jon thought hard on the candidates for both positions. While no one could likely match Marsh's talent for numbers, nor be as frustratingly fixated on them, there were a number of Stewards who could serve in the position until someone with more ability came along. After further consideration, Jon decided that Donnel Hill would do until a better alternative came around. As for First Ranger, while Jon was loath to elevate someone to his uncle's position, he decided that it needed to be done. Given the necessity and importance of archers in their current situation, Jon figured the best choice would be Ulmer. Old and stooped he might be, but he had decades of experience and was renowned for his skill with a bow from the days he had fought alongside the Kingswood Brotherhood.

Sighing, Jon is about to leave to attend to his letters and reports, when he turns and notices Grenn running up to him. Waiting for his friend to reach, Jon accepts his salute. "Something to report," Jon asked without ceremony?

Shrugging, the large man gives Jon a small grin. "That banker what gone after Stannis is back and he's got company."

Raising a brow, Jon asked curiously, "Company?"

"Our guides, a young girl, and one of the king's knights. Banker said you'd want to see them immediately." Noting Jon's thunderstruck expression and concerned for his friend, Grenn asked, "Jon? You alright?"

Jon was no longer listening. _Arya!_ He thought, hope desperately lashing at his heart. Jon began rushing as quickly as his crutch would allow, forcing the rest to follow in his wake. Reaching the gates, his side aching from the exertion, Jon spied the Banker and his party, a feminine figure huddled in cloak in their midst.

Noticing Jon's approach, the Braavosi banker, Tycho Nestoris, smiled, calling out, "Lord Commander! A pleasure to see you again. I have been-" Jon walked straight past him without a sideways glance, causing the man to turn and remark in confusion, "Lord Commander?"

Jon couldn't have cared less what the man had to say. The only thing that existed in that moment was his sister and that he had her with him once more. Less then dozen strides from her he called, "Arya!" The girl tensed and curled into herself, causing Jon to stop in confusion. "Arya?" The girl took a shuddering breath, fear radiating off her, but slowly turned around and lowered her hood. Jon watched her closely, taking in everything of her appearance. The long brown hair, the pretty face, the...

...The terror laced blue eyes, that could never have belonged to Arya in a thousand years.

 _You know nothing Jon Snow._

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Author's Note: Well, another chapter done. Huzzah! I've finally managed an update for one of my stories! The next one will likely be out this coming Monday and will take us away from the Wall to see what else is happening in the North. Hope you've enjoyed this chapter and I hope to give you plenty more to come.

Remember to read and review!

PS: I do not own ASOIAF


	3. Storm's End

_A Tale of Ice and Blood_

 _Chapter III - Storm's End_

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"M'lord and Lady, riders are approaching!" said one of the scouts as he rode towards our small group. Master Glover looked in the direction of the approaching scout as he loosened his sword from his scabbard. He then looked in the direction of Lady Maege and her two daughters, lips pressed together grimly. Lady Mormont returned the look and gave a slight nod and then they both signaled to their men to prepare for an attack. The few mounted scouts came to the center with the archers while the swordsmen and spear men formed a defensive cirle. Master Glover, and Lady Mormont stood side by side while her two daughters where in the center with the mounted men and archers. after the clatter of hooves and armor scilenced. everyone quited to listen for approaching riders. the light snow fall made visibility hard, but eventually a group of a dozen mounted men approaching from the north east were sighted. After a few tense minutes, the mounted force stopped no more then a dozen yards away from them, their leader appraising the situation before signalling his men to stay back and kicking his horse forward.

At the half-way mark between the two forces, he stopped and called out, "Ho there! Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Not yet lowering his sword, Galbart called back, "Galbart Glover, Master of Deepwood Motte, and Maege Mormont, Lady of Bear Island! Who in the Long Night are you?"

The captain started at there names, caught off guard. Galbart wasn't surprised. The two of them hadn't been seen since before the Red Wedding and everything went straight to the deepest pit in the Seven Hells. Focusing on the captain, he noticed the man was getting off his horse. Whipping off his helmet and throwing himself down at Galbart's feet.

Looking like he was close to crying, the man said, "M'Lord! I'm glad your alright! We were so worried something had happened to you!" Seeing Galbart's bemused expression, he explained himself, "It is Ben, M'Lord. I helped care for your horses before the war."

Now able to put a name to the face, he recognized the man. Quick to anger and slightly overzealous, Ben had always been a loyal retainer. "Good Ben," Galbart said, lowering his sword, "It does my heart good to see you alive and well!" Signaling to the rest of his and Maege's men to stand down, he stepped forward and hauled the man up to his feet. "There now! No need to remain there in the muck. I need you to take me to whoever is in charge of this mess. When I say the fate of the North depends on it, I am not exaggerating!"

Ben saluted and leapt back on to his horse as quickly as he could. Signaling to the riders he came with, they formed an escort for Galbart's party, two men riding ahead to bring back news of their coming to Winterfell. Sheathing their blades, Galbart and Maege both waved their men forward, happy that the meeting hadn't turned bloody.

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Two days of marching later and they were finally at Winterfell. Staring out at the ancient and half-ruined seat of House Stark, Galbart couldn't help but consider the parallels it had to the North itself. Bloodied, broken, and burned, but still standing. Still fighting on. _The North Remembers,_ he thought, _and it will rise again!_ Hand going down to his saddle bag, he confirmed its all important contents and drew strength from the knowledge it was still there. Steeling himself, he began marching forward once more, the final stretch to the castle passing quickly. The grounds outside of Winterfell were scattered with dead men and horses. Some of the sigils he reconized belonging to the houses of the north Cerwyn, Bolton, Talhart, Hornwood, Manderly, Umber, and even some Glover and Mormont men. Galbert morned for his own men, ashamed that he hadnt been here to lead them. he also saw the sigil of House Frey and stopped to spit upon it. h saw some other sigils that he vaguely recalled belong to southron houses, but he couldn't recall the names or lords they served.

they passed few living men before they found themselves surrounded by tents, men and horses. though Galbart notices few horses among the ragged men and their tents. he sees more shouthron sigils on the men as his party navigates there way through this city of tents to the main gates. the walls of Winterfell looked scarred up close but still strong as they rode through the gates. they passed the smithy and rode into the main courtyard. waiting for them was a pack of grizzled men and a homley woman. Galbert reconized the two old men as the Umber Brothers, Mors "Crowfood" and Hother "Whorsebane". after a moment he realizes that the woman he noticed earlier is lady Jonelle Cerwyn, daughter of the late lord Medger Cerwyn. Noticing the seaweed armor he takes the large men on the right of the Umbers as a Manderly. upon futher scrutiny of the big bellied man on the leftside of the Umbers, he recognized his old friend Hugo "big bucket" Wull. Off to the side, somewhat separated from the others, he noted a southern warrior, with a torn tabard with moths displayed as its sigil, along with a large, grizzled, and angry soldier with a battle-axe strapped to his back; neither of whom he recognized.

Galbart's scrutiny was interrupted as Big Bucket strode forward to meet him, laughing as he called out, "Galbart Glover, as I live and breath! What hole did you finally crawl out of? We were half convinced ya were pushing up daisies!"

Shaking his head with a tired smile, Galbart clasped arms with his old friend. "Its good to see you too, ya ol bucket head," he said, "As for where I've been? Safeguarding our King's last royal commands about sums it up." All smiles dropped from the groups faces, a seriousness coming upon the meeting like a hammer striking an anvil. Grim-faced, Galbart turns to the group and adds, "We should head inside. There is much we need to discuss."

Crowfood, just as grim and taking command, nods and replies, "Aye. Come on then Glover. We'll discuss what news you have in the Great Keep. You too Mormont." He then turns and begins the trek across the courtyard, leaving the rest to follow. Exchanging a brief look, Galbart and Maege follow the Umber's lead. As they enter the Keep, they both note the blood stains and scarring along the walls. Further evidence, as if they needed it, of the brutal fighting that had taken place there mere days ago. Reaching the chamber Crowfood had set aside as a war council room, they all found a seat and steeled themselves for what was to come. Sighing as he leaned back in his chair, Crowfood turned back to Galbart, his expression severe. "Now," he began again, "What do you have that is so important? The riders that came ahead of you said something about the fate of the North being at stake."

Galbart shares a look with Maege once more and, at her nod, heaves a heavy sigh. Reaching into the large poach at his side, he withdraws a scroll of parchment, sealed with grey wax and the direwolf sigil of House Stark staring glaringly up at the assembled lords from where Galbart placed it upon the table. Turning so as to look them all in the eye, Galbart declares, "I present the last will and testament of Robb of the the House Stark, the First of His Name. King in the North and the Trident." The silence that follows that pronoucement is such that the tension could be cut with a knife.

After a moment of hesitation, Whoresbane reaches over and snatches it up, examining the seal closely before he breaks it and begins to read. After a few more tense moments, the younger of the two Umber Brothers' head snaps up. he gives both Master Glover and Lady Mormont a brief look before passing the document to his brother Mors. After briefly looking it over, eyes widening as he does so, Crowfood then begins to read it aloud:

"I, Robb, of the House Stark, the First of My Name, King in the North and the Trident, do hereby decree this to be my last will and testament...etc, etc...Should I perish without an heir of my body, my eldest sister, Princess Sansa Stark, is to be considered disinherited and denied any right to to my crown. Instead, let it be that Jon Snow, my half-brother, is to be legitimized as Prince Jon Stark, released from his oath to the Night's Watch, and named lawful heir to the Kingdom of the North and the Trident, to succeed me as King in both realms. This is to be considered binding and is to be upheld over all other legitimate born claims by my remaining kinsmen..."

Crowfood sets down the will and sags back into his chair heavily, nearly overcome by what the will has imparted upon him. To his left, opposite Whoresbane, Lady Jonelle takes up the will and begins reading it for herself. The rest sit in stunned silence before the quiet is broken by a mailed fist slamming down on the table, drawing all eyes to the southron warrior Galbart had noticed earlier.

Glaring at them all, Ser Richard Horpe snarls, "Why are we even discussing this nonsense! Robb Stark was a traitor and usurper! He was no king and that!" He points angrily at the will Lady Cerwyn is reading, " Isn't worthy of wiping my arse! As for that bastard on Wall, any claim he had to this castle was forfeit the moment he refused to bend the knee to King Stannis!" Turning so as to spit on the floor, he then continues, "I'll not tolerate that baseborn wretch usurping half of Princess Shireen's inheritance! I'll die before I let that happen!"

Leaping to his feet and snarling right back, Crowfood roars, "You utter one more word besmirching our King's honor and I'll rip out yer tongue shove it straight up yer filthy southron arse! Ya hear me!"

Standing quickly, hand on his sword hilt, Horpe rejoins, "I'd like to see you try, you demon worshipping savage!"

"Demon worshiper!" Crowfood roars, drawing his sword. "Why you little shite! I'll chop yer lying head off!"

Horpe begins drawing steel as well, shouting, "Come and try it old man! I'll-!" He's quickly cut off as a throwing axe lodges in his skull, throwing the man back against his chair and crashing into the ground.

Everyone, stunned, turns to the angry, grizzled sergeant Galbart had noticed in the courtyard, the man's hand still extended from his throw. Scowling, he says, "What?! We might not have given a horse's arse for King Robb after he took Lord Rickard's head, but I'll be damned before I let some southron fool insult our King!"

Scowling, but deciding to ignore that, Crowfood turns back to the matter at hand. Addressing the council as a whole, the elder Umber asks, "So now we've got the Young Wolf's will and a possible heir to the throne. What are are we gonna do about it? Last I checked, Jon Snow was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and had nearly been killed in a mutiny!"

A fist slams into the table, all the men and women present turning to look at Hugo Wull as he lifted his clenched fist from the table to shake it at them. "Why are we even talking about this! The Young Wolf named him a Stark! He's the Ned's son! By my reckoning, that makes him King and I'll gut anyone craven enough to say otherwise!"

"Here, here!" Maege seconds, calling out, "We all fought for the Young Wolf! My daughter died for him! I'll not see any of the blood we spilled for him be for naught!" The Karstark sergeant nods curtly in agreement, while both Galbart and Jonelle voice their own assent.

In the midst of this, however, Marlon Manderly raises his hand and calls their attention. "Ho there!" He calls, "The will is all well and good, but we're forgetting something important." Seeing their blank faces, he mutters under his breath and then says aloud, "Jon Snow, or Jon Stark I suppose, is Ned Stark's son and the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. If he's anything like his father, who's to say he'll even agree to abandon his post? For many men, honor would say that he has to stay and die as a Brother of the Night's Watch, royal decree or no royal decree. Horpe even said he turned down Stannis' offer to give him the North!"

Scowling, Maege rejoins, "But that was a Southron King and not a pleasant one by any stretch. This is his brother's will! Can any of you see the boy refusing to honor his brother's last wishes?"

Running a hand through her long brown hair, Jonelle replies, "No, but he might be suspicious if what we have truly is his brother's will. With Stannis dead and no one with the prestige or blood needed to unite us present, he'll see us as desperate for a leader. He might take us for liars." This brought them all up short, not having considered this possibility.

Growling in frustration, Crowfood exclaims, "Fine! If he needs proof, we'll just have to show him the will in person! Who should we send?"

Thumping her fist against her chest, Maege stands up. "I'll take it to the lad! He was my brother's steward and squire. I'm sure sure he'll believe it coming from me!"

Next to her, Galbart snorts, saying, "The fact that you'll have first crack at foisting your daughters on him doesn't hurt either, eh?" Maege simply shrugs at that while the rest laugh, the tension beginning to dissipate. Giving a half smile and sighing, Galbart continues, "So, Maege will take the will to our Stark Prince, what does that leave the rest of us doing?"

The Karstark sergeant speaks then, saying, "The prisoners will need to be sorted out, the castle fortified, and supplies gathered. We're not liable to last long without them." Here he gives a pointed look to Marlon, who nods distractedly, lost in his own thoughts. Turning back to the rest, he continues, "We also need to be on the look out for the remnants of the Bolton forces, seeing as Roose hasn't been confirmed dead, and begin making plans to bring the rest of the North to heel."

Jonelle nods, an ugly scowl twisting her face. "Aye!" She says, "Barrowton and the Rills both need to be tended to and the Ironborn still hold Torrhen's Square! If not for those filthy squids, the Turncoat would never have captured Winterfell and my little brother would still be alive!" At this, tears form in her eyes and, to the discomfort of the men present, looks like she'll start weeping, but manages to pull herself together.

Taking charge once more, Crowfood says, "The prisoners can be sorted based on their allegiance. Any Boltons or Freys will be given the choice of trip to the Wall or the block. The others will be given the option of either joining us or going to the Wall with the rest of the traitors. Any of Roose's highborn lackeys can be kept locked up until we decide what to do with them." Snarling, he adds, "All of those Frey knights will be needed to buy back my nephew's freedom from those craven Whoresons!" Growling, Whoresbane nodded as well, though both looked like they would rather just gut all of the Freys and be done with it then deal with them any further.

Grunting, Galbart nods. "Aye," he agrees, "The sooner the Greatjon is back cracking skulls for the King in the North, the happier all of us will be." Everyone nodded in agreement, a few chuckles thrown in. "In any event," he continues, "Do we send the prisoners with Maege or wait until Prince Jon has agreed to take the throne? King Robb mentioned buying his freedom with a few hundred Lannister prisoners, to smooth over the insult that imposing on their authority would bring."

"We need to be rid of the bastards as quickly as possible," Crowfood replies. "We don't have the supplies to feed both them and ourselves while we wait for Maege to get to the Wall and the Prince to make up his ruddy mind! We round up whoever wants to go, give them all an armed escort, and have Maege lead em all off to the Wall. They'll have their blood price and we'll be able to move forward with our plans."

Galbart smacks the table jovially. "Its decided them!" He proclaims. "Maege will go get our Prince and we'll make ready for his coming. Then, when he arrives, we'll be ready to blood and steel down on all those backstabbing traitors! Ryswell, Dustin, Bolton, and Frey, they'll all learn the price of betrayal!"

The others begin thumping the table as well, oaths of vengeance and blood lust passing quick and strong between them. Finally, Crowfood takes his blade and throws it on the table exclaiming, "The King in the North!" Joining in, they all draw their weapons and throw them down with the sword, shouting out the words that had rallied Northmen and Riverlander alike to rise against the Iron Throne.

"The King in the North!"

"The King in the North!"

"The King in the North!"

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Author's Note: Another chapter done on time! I'm feeling pretty good about myself right now. Now, if my reviews from the last chapter weren't playing hide and seek, I'd probably feel better.

So, Robb's will has been brought forth and the Northern Loyalists have rallied to Jon's claim. The fate of the North stands on a knife's edge and Jon's fate with it. What will happen next, I wonder? Will Jon take the crown? Will the Bolton rebels be brought to heel? Will Maege Mormont get Jon to take one of her daughters as his Queen? Why am I asking you these questions? Who knows! As to the answers to all these questions, you will find out soon. Be prepared for the next chapter of "A Tale of Ice and Blood," and know that when it does, the blood will truly begin to flow!

Remember to read and review!

PS: I do not own ASOIAF


	4. Dark Wings

_A Tale of Ice and Blood_

 _Chapter IV - Dark Wings_

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 _When last we last off with Jon Snow, he had just discovered that the girl posing as Arya Stark, his younger sister, was actually a girl named Jeyne Poole, the daughter of his fathers steward. it has been two days since then._

Jon woke up to a soft knock on his door. He rose up slowly, and siad, "Enter!" the door opened to reveal Dryn peaking his head into the room. he clears his throat and says, "Lord crow, Clydas says hes received a raven from Cotter Pyke." Jon then rises from his bed and begins to dress in his tunic and cloak. After slinging Longclaw onto his back he grabs his crutch and slowly makes his way out of the armory and towards the rookery. Not even bothering to acknowledge the salutes of those he passed, he nonetheless noted the sympathetic glances from many of the men, Black Brother and Free Folk alike. In Jon's mind, the sympathy was more unbearable than the resentment from before. All it did was remind him of what had been ripped from him. The hope that Arya was still alive...

"Snow! Snow!" A familiar voice called out, drawing Jon from his thoughts. Looking up, he noted old Commander Mormont's raven flying above him, big black wings casting shadows over him. Raising the arm not holding his crutch, Jon waits for the bird to come down to him. He's soon rewarded with another "Snow!," and the bird alights upon his outstretched left arm. Scratching the raven's neck, Jon wonders if it wouldn't be better to be like the bird, caring only for the next meal and flying free. Free of regret. Free of loss. Free of the rage he wants to let loose on everyone and everything around him. Shaking his head, Jon prodded the raven up onto his shoulder and continued on his way to the rookery.

Entering the keep at the foot of the rookery and ascending the stairs, Jon makes his way to Maester Aemon's quarters, where Clydas had been set up in the elderly man's absence. Entering the solar, Jon saw the steward scratching away notes at a desk he'd set up in the corner, no doubt figuring out what supplies he would need in the near future. Putting the headache of logistics off for another time, Jon cleared his throat, causing Clydas to look up and notice him for the first time.

Blinking in surprise, the steward rose and gave a short bow, "Lord Commander, welcome." He motioned to a nearby wooden chair. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you," Jon returned, making his way over to the chair and dropping into it heavily. Grunting at the soreness that still perforated his body, Jon sighed and settled into the chair. Clydas, seeing him settled in, turned back to his desk and shifted some papers around, grabbing up a missive from the stack. "As the boy no doubt informed you, we've had a missive from Commander Pyke." Taking the missive from Clydas' hand, Jon began to read:

 _"Returned from Hardhome. Was able to rescue 5,000 wildlings. The rest refused to be rescued or died in the attack by the others. Lost wildlings on the voyage due to attempted mutiny. Others fell over board or died from hunger. Collected all their weapons and valuables. Will have it cataloged and handed over to the Iron bankers. W`aiting for instructions on the remaining wildlings._

 _Cotter Pyke, Commander of Eastwatch-by-the-Sea"_

Jon sagged in relief, thanking the old gods that something had finally gone right. While the deaths of so many Free Folk weighed on his heart, he took solace that so many were saved and that Pyke was still alive. Frustrating as the man could be, Jon knew he would be relying on the man in the future. Straightening in his seat, Jon begins to consider what do with the Free Folk sitting on their arses at Eastwatch. _Pyke can't afford to keep them their for long,_ Jon thought. _If they aren't sent on, it'll likely mean a riot. Best thing to do is have the warriors and spearwives reinforce the other castles. The women, children, and those too old to help can be sent on to the growing settlements south of the Wall. Need to keep them spread out though, lest they overwhelm their resources and starve._ His course decided, he gives Clydas instructions for a missive to relay his orders to Pyke. That done, he leaves the Maester's keep to deal with the next piece of unpleasant business: Jeyne Poole, who he has been putting off dealing with for the last two days. He had taken one look at the girl's eyes and stopped dead. Unable to deal with the crushing weight of the realization that she wasn't Arya, he'd turned around and left for the armory, locking himself inside for the rest of the day.

Val had taken charge of the girl in his stead, taking her back to Hardin's Tower and caring for her. From the looks Val had shot him yesterday, she was clearly less then impressed with his actions, or lack there of. Ghost, the traitor, had been staying with them as well, clearly taking Val's side in this matter. He could honestly say that was a conversation he'd rather avoid, but putting Val off was never that easy. Jon gave an unconcious smile, thinking fondly on the woman, before shaking his head. He couldn't afford to get distracted. That was a complication he really did not need. Making his way across the training ground, he nodded to those of his men who greeted him, noting those who needed more work on their technique and those who were making progress. Leathers had been making good progress with the lot of them. _The man still terrifies his trainees,_ Jon thought. _If they can ever overcome that fear, they might just be ready for anything._ Seeing the tower coming up on him, passing Wun Wun on the way, he steeled himself for what was to come.

When Jon finally reached Val's quarters, the soreness of his body rising to a slightly dull throb, he knocked on the door and waited. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing Toregg standing inside. when Toregg saw Jon standing there he stepped aside and let him walk in before closing the door behind them and the two of them made their way up the tower steps. Wryly looking at Jon, Toregg knocks on Val's door and announces Jon's arrival. through the door we can hear a faint shuffling before the door was opened to reveal Val in a pair of white breeches and a tunic with the laces at the neck slightly undone to slightly reveal her clevage. jon blushed at the sight before he cleared his throat and thoughts to say, "Hello Val, I'm here to speak with Jeyne."

Turning her attention to Jon, Val gave him a look that clearly said, 'Its about time Crow.' Snorting quietly, she waved him to follow her. Stopping at the door to her room, she turned and addressed Jon sternly, "The girl is terrified of everything. Whatever those Boltons did to her, she can hardly stand to have anyone be near her. She nearly killed herself trying to get away from Ghost the first time he came near her and started sobbing when Toregg tried to touch her." Giving him a grim look, she added, "I doubt I need to explain what the last means." Jon nodded, face stony with restrained fury. Continuing, Val said, "She's been beside herself with worry that you'll throw her back to the Boltons. She thinks your furious with her, for pretending to be your sister."

Quietly, Jon replied, "Its not her I'm angry at."

Val snorted, a slight grimace on her face. "It doesn't matter. You putting off talking to the girl has only made it worse. She's already half-convinced that you've sent word to the Boltons to take her off your hands." Giving him a hard look, she poked him hard in the chest. "You will fix this, Crow, or so help me, I'll cut off your balls and feed them to that damn bird on your shoulder. Am I clear?" Jon, tense and uncomfortable, nodded. Still glaring at him, Val knocked on the door. A loud creak from inside signaled that Jeyne had likely jumped in Val's bed, fear playing havoc on her reactions. "Jeyne?" Val called. "The Lord Commander's here to see you. Can we come in?"

It was silent for a few moment, before a barely audible "Come in." sound from inside the room. Opening the door, Val strolled in, Jon trailing behind her. Taking a close look at Jeyne, Jon noted the terror laced blue eyes were still the same as when she first arrived. Her brown hair was wildly unkept and her dress was ragged and torn at the edges. Noting they were the same clothes she'd been wearing when she first arrived, Jon through a quisitive look towards Val, who shook her head. Putting that aside for the moment, Jon walked slowly up to the side of the bed and, with difficultly, knelt down. After a few moments, Jeyne finally looked at him directly, filching at the sight of him, but then tentatively began, "J-Jon Snow, I mean Lord Commander." She bit tentatively at her her lip, eyes going to Val, who nodded reassuringly. "I-I'm sorry Jon. I didn't wa..." She trailed off, unable to continue and beginning to give quiet sobs.

Jon, scratching rubbing his neck, sighed. He had never been good at dealing with weeping women. Gilly was proof of that. Trying for a smile, he was sure it came off as more of a grimace, Jon addressed her quietly. "Jeyne." She gave a little jump, but he had her attention. "I'm not angry with you. I will never send you back to those monsters. You have my word on that. Alright?" Jeyne looked up at Jon blankly, before hurling herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and sobbing out declarations of gratitude. Jon's panicked look and silent plea for help to Val was met with silent chuckles and a smug smirk. She was clearly enjoying Jon's discomfort.

After Jeyne had finally calmed down, Jon gently settled her back on the edge of the bed, moving slowly to sit beside her. Placing an arm around her, which briefly made her tense up, causing Jon to retract his arm. Relaxing, Jeyne reached out and latched onto his hand, smiling shyly up at him in gratitude. Sighing, Jon rubbed his neck with his other hand, dreadfully uncomfortable. Looking down at Jeyne, Jon spoke softly, still concerned that he might startle her. "Jeyne, I need you to answer a few questions. Can you do that?" Seeing her nod, he continued, "What happened at King's Landing? To my sisters? At Winterfell and with Stannis?"

Jeyne takes a moment to steady herself, then gives at shuddering sigh. She asked, "How much do you know?"

Jon replied, "I know Sansa was betrothed to Joffrey. I know that something went wrong in King's Landing, leading to my father being imprisoned and Robb calling the banners to free him. I know he was executed." Here, Jon grimaces, but carries on. "What I want to know is the details. How and why did this all happen? What happened after?"

Jeyne looked down at her lap, shuddering at the old memories. Then, in a rather detached voice, she starts reciting what happened, as if reading out loud from a book. "Lord Stark was making a lot of trips around the city. We never knew why. Sansa and I were caught up thinking on her betrothal to Joffrey. Everything was going so perfectly. Then, out of nowhere, everything started to fall apart. Lord Stark was attacked by Lannisters and was nearly killed. The King died next, tusked by a bore. Then Lord Stark said we were leaving, all of us, back to the North. Sansa didn't want to leave. She wanted to marry Joffrey and be his Queen. Lord Stark said he'd arrange a Northern match for her and that he'd explain later, but Sansa wouldn't hear it." Jeyne stopped for a moment, her grip tightening on Jon's hand. Quietly, desperately, she asked, "Why didn't she just do as she was told?"

Jon shook his head and said, "I don't know, Jeyne. I really don't." Val took a seat beside Jon to better hear Jeyne's tale, squeezing Jon's shoulder as she did so. Giving her a small smile, he turned back to Jeyne and waited for her to continue.

Shaking her head, Jeyne continued, the same emotionless tone returning. "Sansa went to the Queen." Jon's eyes widened in realization. "She was desperate to stay and told the Queen that Lord Stark planned to leave. Afterwards, Sansa and I were thrown into a room and left there while everything happened. I later learnt that Lord Stark was arrested and executed, but I was dragged off and handed off to Lord Baelish," here grip tightens again, but she continues. He...made me do things. To teach me. After a while I was handed over to the Bolton men, who had brought Ser Jaime back to King's Landing. I was so relieved. I was finally going to go back to the North. I thought nothing could be worse then what had already happened." She turned and stared at them both blankly. "I was wrong."

Giving Val a look, Jon nodded at her. Sighing, she asked kindly, "What happened next, Jeyne?"

Turning her eyes back to her lap, she said, "I was taken to Lord Bolton. I couldn't tell if he was pleased or not, but he wasn't harsh. He treated me well enough. I thought, even if I had to pretend to be Arya like they told me to, I could at least be happy. It took awhile, but we eventually made it Moat Cailin. We got stuck there, because of the Ironborn. Lord Bolton's men eventually removed them and we finally entered the North. I can't tell you how happy I was to finally be back. Then I met Lord R-Ramsay and everything started to go wrong." Blinking away tears, her voice filling with more emotion, she continued, "He was vile. He hurt me in...in so many ways. He was just as vile to Theon." At Jon's sudden scowl, Jeyne pleaded, "I know he did horrible things, but he helped me. He saved me. I'd be dead without him." Jon, not wanting to have this conversation, simply nodded. Jeyne went on, "Things in Winterfell started to go wrong. People started dying. Eventually a group of women helped us escape. They fought through the Bolton men and we ended up jumping from the walls of Winterfell to the snows below. Lord Mors asked me questions to see if I was really Arya and I was able to answer them. Then he sent Theon and I on to King Stannis. Theon was imprisoned and I was sent to you. Ser Justin said King Stannis was trying to repay the debt he owed you, for revealing the Karstark betrayal." She sighed, releasing Jon's hand and putting her arms around her legs. "That's everything."

Jon squeezes her shoulder lightly, "Thank you, Jeyne. I'll leave you to rest now." The girl simply nodded and Jon got up to go, Val following behind as they made their way out of the bedroom.

After shutting the door behind her, Val turned to Jon and asked, "What do you plan on doing with her?"

Jon grunted, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't know," he said, "but she can't stay here indefinitely. Maybe I can send her to Karhold, once I'm sure Alys has settled things there. She could act as a lady-in-waiting for her." Val nodded, though Jon could see she wasn't completely satisfied with sending Jeyne away. She had grown fond of the girl, Jon noted. Shaking his head, he put in, "We'll see what happens. In the meantime, Pyke has returned with nearly 5,000 of your people. The rest didn't make it, unfortunately, but I'll be needing yours and Tormund's help dealing with those that did. Two or three weeks, stuck on a ship with Pyke, is sure to have left them in a foul mood." Val frowned, but nodded, knowing what would happen if they didn't meet this problem quickly. Feeling Ghost rub up against him, Jon glanced down and scratched behind his ears, thinking, _Lets just hope nothing else goes wrong. Just this once._ Even as the thought came to him, he was sure he was going to curse himself later. Nothing good ever came of such thoughts.

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 _Two Weeks Later_

Jon stood in the courtyard with Tormund and Val as they issue orders to the Free Folk that had just arrived to the castle. Out of the nearly 5000 that came back with Cotter Pyke, 2000 remaind to be distributed along the castles on the wall and within the new settlements in the Gift. The new recruits were just as resentful as the orginal ones had been. He could see that some of them felt trapped and hated being here, serving under the ones who had killed their king and shattered their hopes of breaking through the Wall. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of tribes that had existed since time immemorial were now extinct. As the Lord Commander, all that anger ended up directed at Jon. He didn't let it bother him. At this point, most of those that now served under Jon resented him. If that was the price of keeping them all alive, he'd bear it. For the rest, he could see grudging gratitude. They didn't like it, but they accepted that they owed him their lives and were fully willing to pay that debt.

He was about to dispatch some men to break up a fight that had started to erupt when a group of riders from the south approached the scene. Everyone in the courtyard including the wildlings froze as a group of 40 horsemen stopped a few yards away from the groups. the leading rider, a stout women with grey hair and wearing chain-mail began to approach them. she scanned the crowed with a curious but conservative gaze until her eyes fall upon Jon. At once her eyes took on an almost rabid look. A hunger for something Jon could not even begin to fathom. Frowning, Jon called out, "Ho there! Who are are you? I do not recall giving leave for any new guests to enter!"

The woman continued walking up and, when she was maybe six feet away, gave a polite bow. "Lord Commander Snow," she said gruffly, "I am Maege Mormont, Lady of Bear Island. I believe you knew my brother."

Jon reared a little at that, but smiled. "Welcome," he returned, "Its an honor to meet Commander Mormont's sister. He spoke very fondly of you."

Maege snorted, "Fondly? You mean he complained that I was as hard headed as a mule and would be the death of him from all the worry I caused him."

Jon chuckled and said, "More or less. Now, if I may, what brings you here Lady Mormont? We had no word of your coming."

Maege frowned in what might've been confusion, but then laughed. "The damn raven must've had some mishap on its way here!" Pausing for a moment, as if thinking on something, she continued, "I'm here to inform you of the outcome of the Battle of Winterfell and arrange the transport of some prisoners to reinforce you here at the Wall. I'm afraid the traitorous magots are draining our food supplies. Better they be put to use by you, else-wise we'd have to gut them and toss them in a bonfire."

Jon frowned, knowing that this would help his manpower problem, but it would also further strain their food stores. _At least word came from Braavos that our first shipment of food was on its way,_ he thought grimly. _We'd be lucky to survive another few months without it._ Turning back to the task at hand, Jon gave Lady Mormont a nod. "Thank you, my lady. The men will be relieved at having more brothers to watch their backs." Of that, Jon had little doubt. Pacified or not, his brothers were still wary of the Free Folk's presence and would be pleased to have more men from the south to even the numbers a bit. "Please," Jon said, motioning her to follow him, "I'm sure you must be tired from road. Lets go to the King's Tower. I'm sure Queen Selyse is curious to know what's become of her husband and you can rest your feet. My squire," he motioned Dryn over, "will see that your men are escorted to suitable accommodations in the Flint's Barracks."

Maege frowned at the mention of the Queen, but shrugged and waved her men off, who all took to following the young squire. Turning back to Jon, she grinned, "Lead on boy! The southron wench won't like what I've got to say, but better to get it over with." Snorting, Jon waved her to follow as he turned and headed for the King's Tower, Val and Tormund remained behind to continue issuing orders to the wildlings. the two guards at the base of the queens tower opened the door for them. they ascended the stairs until they reached the door to the queens chambers. Jon knocked on the door and announced their presence. the door was answered by Ser Axell Florent. He waived them inside as he went to stand by his Queen and Princess. Jon, Val, and Lady Mormont gave slight bows to the Queen and the Princess Shireen.

Once he has risen Jon says, "Your Grace, your Highness, may I present to you the Lady Maege Mormont of Bear island. She comes with news concerning the battle at Winterfell."

Clearly interested, the Queen snaps out, "Speak! Tell us of my husband's great victory!" Jon, Val, and Lady Mormont look to each other before Lady Mormont says,

"Your Grace, Winterfell is no longer in Bolton Bolton himself has fled with his wife and what remains of his shattered host, his bastard of a son is dead, and the northern lords have joined us except for the houses Ryswell and Dustin, whom have fled west towards their holdfasts. Unfortunately, his grace is dead and his body is laid to rest among the crypts of Winterfell. All that remains of his host is 400 men and Knights." Stunned silence that followed, Maege turns to reach into a bag and pulls out the king's flaming crown. She then walks over to the queen and places the crown into her lap. Princess Shireen cries out, "Father!" as she weeps into her mothers lap. Jon looks at the girl with sympathy, before glancing up at the Queen, expecting to see rage, only to note something is wrong.

"Your Grace?" Jon asks. "Are you alright?"

Ser Axel snaps out of his shock and shrieks at Jon, "Of course she isn't alright you fucking bastard! The King is dead!" The other Queensmen start shouting as well, pandemonium breaking out as they start screaming obscenities and denunciations at Jon's party or each other. All of that stops, however, when a cry goes out.

"Mother!" Shireen yells. All turn to look and see the Queen grasping for her heart, gasping in pain. Finally she falls forward, Shireen yanked away by the quick actions of Lady Mormont to prevent her from being crushed underneath her. The guards leap forward, picking the Queen up off the floor, only to find the sharp edges of her husband's crown embedded in her body. Shireen, sobbing and struggling in Lady Mormont's strong arms cries out, "No! Mother! Mother get up! Get up!"

Maege Mormont continues holding her as the men rush to see what they can do. "She's gone, girl," Maege say softly, "she's gone." Jon can only look on as the Queensmen and the Princess come undone. Why does everything have to go wrong?

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Author's Note: Not happy about this being a week late, not happy at all, but its still done, so I'm not too upset. Hopefully you aren't either, eh? Another chapter should be out by next week, but I'm not entirely sure. In any event, the slow stuff is almost over, so we'll be seeing real action the introductory phase is over by chapter six I believe. I'm sure we're all looking forward to it!

Remember to read and review!

PS: I do not own ASOIAF


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